Domus Divisa
by b-mystique
Summary: "Do you ever get tired of playing the victim, Harvey? Because I get tired of you doing it." "Retract the claws, Jessica." "You first!" Jessica learns about the coup her progeny is organizing against her,and she and Harvey have a falling out. Possibly for good. Post "War", and based on the promos for S3 premiere. Rated T for strong language.


_**A/N:**__ I've been avoiding legal things ever since I failed to get the score I wanted on my LSATs. I'm really hard on myself, but finding out that I'm a strong candidate for law school if I just get a couple of points higher has made me less anxious. Not really, but I'm not beating myself anymore, which is fantastic because now I can watch my legal shows and enjoy them. Just in time for Suits, even though I'm concerned about my beloved Jarvey. The kids don't like it when Mom and Dad fight. This kid in particular. Umm, so this. This, I guess you can say is based on the finale and on the promos, and spoilers for the upcoming season. I'm in a bit of a…mood. _

_**Disclaimer:**__ They aren't mine. Un-betaed. There is also strong language, that I don't typically use, but hey. Honest reviews are appreciated. Really. Oh and that damn Rihanna song I got stuck in my head ain't mine either._

"A house divided against itself cannot stand." –Abraham Lincoln

~O~

"Are you going to keep standing there or are you going to sit?"

Jessica's voice was cool and calm, as if she sensed that he had been standing behind her for the last two minutes. Then again, knowing her, she probably had. What did it say about their current state that she was still in tune with him and he was so far removed from her that he could barely think straight?

"You heard me." He sighed, mildly irritated. He didn't bother to keep it at bay anymore. He didn't see the point.

"More like smelled you," she said, slender fingers waved at the air, as she narrowed her deep chocolate eyes and regarded him. "It's the cologne. It reeks of arrogance and desperation."

"Aftershave," he corrected with not a hint of humor in his voice. She must have noticed because she cleared her throat before snapping back at him.

"Aftershave, really? Shaving is for men not boys."

Hm," he responded noncommittally. The lack of a snappy retort caught her completely off guard if the way her brow furrowed was any indicator.

She sank further into the burgundy booth of the low-lit restaurant. It was one of their favorite eateries. In the early days of their…_relationship_, they'd come to the secluded little bar and grille, that was equal parts casual and elegant. Sort of like her. Sort of like him. They'd come after they solidified a merger. They'd celebrate with drinks and share an appetizer while shooting the breeze. Commending and berating one another for a job well done, in that special way that only they did. They'd talk about anything. They'd talk about everything. Or, given their proclivity for being guarded and private individuals they'd talk about nothing at all. He'd hit on a waitress and she'd watch, with a sparkle in her eye, and that slight smirk that showed she was trying desperately not to laugh right in his face. Sometimes, if she was in a particularly fun mood, she'd help him close the deal.

Best kept secret in the business, Jessica Pearson was a kickass wing-woman. "A closer is a closer. It doesn't matter in what capacity" she'd say, her voice warm and throaty after one too many shots of bourbon. She'd glance at him with hooded eyes and something in him would stir. He'd wonder if he had the balls to close the ultimate deal. Her. She'd study him for a bit, her easy smirk fading slightly, before tilting her head in the direction of his conquest-to-be with her rendition of an "Atta-boy". He'd throw back another drink, the liquid burning his throat as it slid down, taking with it the soul-bearing words that would dance dangerously on the tip of his tongue when she sat there uninhibited and guard-free. Just being Jessica. He'd rise from the table and bid her farewell, which would consist of a wave, or if he was especially plastered that night, a brush of his lips across her knuckles. That was something that would always make her chuckle, reluctantly, but still.

Even at the moment, she sat there looking stunning. A black sleeveless top with lacy ruffled lining, accentuating her just so. The pencil skirt that hovered on the line between professional and indecent, hugging her curves tightly. Thick, dark curls swept over one shoulder and framed her face. It was the legs that spoke volumes. They were shapely legs crossed seductively, as per usual for her, but the way she had them angled outwards told him that she was unsure of whether or not he'd even show up. She was teetering on the edge of her seat as if she was all prepared to take off at any given second. A small ping of guilt hit him, but he dismissed it quickly. He would not feel guilty.

"Is there a reason why you summoned me to meet you here?" He asked, in a bored tone. He contemplated remaining standing but figured; even he shouldn't be that rude. He unfastened the buttons of his suit jacket and slid into the booth opposite of her.

"I was hungry," she responded flippantly. "Plus, we needed to talk. Two birds. One stone." Something ominous flickered across her face but she blinked and it was gone. She was back to being composed and calculated, as piercing eyes bore into him.

"What's the matter Jessica? Darby not feeding you?" He could practically taste the bile in his throat that went along with the taunt. He swallowed it down while trying to maintain a smirk. It felt more like a grimace, and the way Jessica's body recoiled ever so slightly, he'd surmised that it was.

She shot him a poisonous smile, so harsh he could practically see venom dripping from her perfect white teeth. Her luscious lips were painted a blood red. She took a sizeable gulp of white wine, leaving remnants of crimson imprints on the rim. When she spoke again her voice was so even he barely heard the hint of menace and malice lacing the words.

"I took the liberty of ordering for you. Crow for dinner, but I'm thinking a generous slice of humble pie for dessert."

"Retract the claws, Jessica."

"You first."

They sat in an uncomfortable silence. The tension so thick it could no longer be contained in their bubble. It ebbed around them, spreading like tentacles out to the surrounding tables, as other patrons cast alarmed glances in their general direction. A slender waitress with a bouncing blonde ponytail bobbed over to them, placing a sampler platter in from of them and a handful of napkins.

"Are you folks alright over here?" She asked, with a forced exuberance, as she glanced at the couple before her nervously. The silence persisted as he and Jessica glared at one another. Neither of them breaking eye contact long enough to acknowledge the young girl. After another long moment, the blonde scurried away.

"How long are we going to do this, Harvey?" Jessica asked quietly. She sounded worn down, and thoughtful. Her eyes scanned all over his face as though she were taking every micro-movement in.

"Do what?" he asked innocently. He made his voice deliberately nonchalant, some twisted part of him enjoying the way he frustrated her.

"Don't be cute, Harvey. You know damn well what I'm talking about." She all but hissed. There was exasperation in her face and in the tone of her voice that he hadn't noticed before. It was of his doing, of course, but he didn't really have it in him to care. He was too pissed to be concerned.

"Actually I don't. I'm not privileged enough to be in the _know_ anymore remember? That ship sailed the moment you merged with Darby," he glared at her. His jaw clenched as he tried to reign in his anger. He could feel the heat rising up the back of his neck, and he silently cajoled himself to relax.

"This again?" she shook her head in disbelief as she rubbed her temples. She pressed so hard he wondered if she'd actually break skin.

"This still," he bit back harshly. If he could inflict as much malice in his tone, maybe he could convince himself that he no longer cared about her or her feelings. "It never went away Jessica. You more than anyone should know that."

She cast him a treacherous look, and opened her mouth to speak when her cell phone vibrated with a text message. She glanced at the screen, cleared her throat, and met his eyes again.

"Was that Sir Darby whistling for you?" the corner of his mouth pulled up in a lopsided grin, but the bitterness was unmistakable in his voice, even to his own ears.

She scoffed at the insult and shook her head at him, a small mirthless laugh escaped from her lips "That the best you got, kid?"

"I'm only saying. You've been his bitch since the merger has happened. Honestly, I'm surprised you managed to get away for this long. Hell, I'm surprised your lips aren't chapped from having them permanently attached to that Limey's _arse_!" he did his best mock impersonation of a British accent. "Or do you put them somewhere else?" he muttered as an afterthought.

He waited with a morbid anticipation for her reaction. If his scathing words had any impact whatsoever on her, she didn't give him any sign. She merely sipped from her glass of wine and offered an apologetic nod to the table next to them. He rolled his eyes at her placating and incessant need to uphold a certain image.

"I've been waiting for years," she said coolly, picking at the greasy food in front of her. "I've been waiting since the day I met you, for you to drop the shitty attitude and stop acting like a goddamn kid." She brushed a stray hair out of her face and glared at him. "I naively figured you'd grow up. Grow the hell out of it, because that's what adults do. But you aren't an adult, are you? You're a goddamn child!"

He leaned back into the booth, brought his arm to rest over the top in an effort to look unaffected. He could see the anger in her eyes, in the way her body tensed, in the way her chest heaved. He found that particularly distracting. He brought his eyes back up to her face and she suddenly appeared smug. He couldn't afford her arrogance. He had to get out.

"Again, Jessica," he canted his head to the side after glancing at his watch. "Why the fuck did you bring me here?"

She pursed her lips tightly, and he could see the ticking in her delicate jaw. He was getting to her, right under her skin.

"You, what, thought you'd bring me here and we could reminisce? That new sidekick of yours isn't doing the trick so you want to be back in my good graces?" he took a long sip of his bourbon, placing the tumbler on the table, his fingers dancing over the rim. He'd heard the whispers about his British counterpart. He'd even seen the guy in action. He'd begrudgingly admit that the guy was good, and he found his burgeoning relationship with Jessica irksome. Harvey Specter didn't play second fiddle to anyone.

"Oh you selfish little prick," she scoffed. "Don't get it twisted! I assure you, British Harvey, is more than capable. You know he actually listens? He does. He listens; he actually does what I goddamn tell him to do. His billables are much higher than yours, he's brokered more deals in this past month than you have in the past three, and..." she leaned across the table, her eyes casting a predatory gleam over him. "…he has better hair."

She ignored the annoyed expression that he was trying to mask, because no way did that Downton bastard have better hair. No way. "It's you. It's you that should be working to get back into _my_ good graces. It's you that's been screwing up! It's you that has been acting like a self-consumed jackass!"

"Self-consumed, really, Jessica? How is being the only one to stand by your side during all of this, my being self-consumed?"

"I put the firm first, Harvey. Always. _You_ can't do that. You can _never_ do that. You're too caught up in your ego and what benefits _you_ to ever do something like that," she paused as the blonde waitress returned to the table briefly to refill their glasses. "Honestly, that's why you weren't ready to have your goddamn name on that door, Harvey. And yet, there I was, still willing to put it up there, and you…you went and fucked it all up.

"Do you ever get tired, Harvey? Do you ever get tired of playing the fucking victim all the time? Because I sure as hell get tired of you doing it!" Her eyes blazed with a renewed fury and energy that he hadn't seen in the past month. She was just getting started.

"It was your plan to team up with Darby. Your plan and it was a damn good one," she hissed lowly, avoiding the gaze of the couple sitting adjacent to them.

"_Temporarily_, Jessica. I never agreed to partnering up with those fucking douchebags. We didn't need them! It could have just been us!" his voice escalated as he leaned towards her and leveled her with an intense glare. "I never agreed to that shit, and you know it!"

"And that's the heart of the matter, isn't it Harvey?" she laughed bitterly. He felt his throat constrict at the amount of animosity that emanated from her. "You didn't have to agree to anything. It was _my_ decision. It's _my _firm. It's _my_ name on the door. You act as though you don't get that, Harvey! We are not partners. I'm your boss. You are my subordinate. It's your job to do what I goddamn tell you to do! No questions asked.

"My allowing you to take part in anything beyond your job is my extending you a courtesy. I don't owe you that. Maybe that's where I screwed up, because you've got it stuck in your pretty little head that we're somehow on an even playing field, and we're not, Harvey. We most certainly are not. I run this shit! You need to learn your place and apparently I'm going to have to show it to you." She threw back the rest of her wine and placed the glass on the table calmly. She raised a brow as she lounged in the booth across from him. She appeared so unruffled, so casual, that he wouldn't have believed the heated words came out of her mouth, if not for the dark ferocity blazing in her eyes.

"So what am I, a dog?" he managed to get out between gritted teeth. He was silently berating himself for the reactions he was having to her. He understood why he was angry, but why the hell was he kind of turned on too?

"If the collar fits."

They glared at one another, neither of them so much as blinking, as he contemplated getting up and walking away from her. Permanently. His face twitched in irritation from some godforsaken indie rock music blaring in the background. How the hell do you have a reasonable dining experience with indie rock as background noise? Before his mind wondered to the always impassioned inner debate on the decline of quality music as he knew it, he forced himself to drink her in.

"You forget it's me you're talking to Jess," he said quietly. He stared at a fixture over her shoulder, to avoid the death stare she seemed to be shooting his way. "I can see through all that bullshit you just said."

"Your mother really did a number on you," Jessica stated. There was no edginess or taunting in her voice whatsoever, and she seemed to have cooled down from her last heated outburst.

He tensed at the mere mention of his mother and the observation along with it. His stomach turned, and he found himself clenching his fists and tightening his jaw. He worked through breathing out of his nose until he willed himself to relax, and placed a nonplussed expression on his face. He hoped she hadn't seen how affected he was by her words. It was already taking everything in him not to be goaded as it was. "We're done."

"I'm only stating the obvious, Harvey," Jessica said nonchalantly. "Am I supposed to ignore the fact that the only reason you got all pissy about this Darby situation is because your ex-girlfriend was involved?" She raised a brow at him, and waited for a response. He didn't oblige.

"The moment you found out she was involved; you pissed all our plans away. That's why I said you weren't ready to be partner. To be managing partner you have to put the firm first. To be a managing partner you have to cast the personal shit aside, and do what's best for all. You didn't do that. You got personal, your judgment got clouded, your deeply rooted misogynism, or yes, mommy crap, got in the way. You were willing to put everything and everyone at jeopardy all so you could have your way. The firm. Me!" She willed him to look her in the eye, but he found something particularly intriguing over her shoulder.

"Despite all of that, I was still willing, willing to give you a shot, and you just blew it all to hell, because you didn't _trust_ me. Imagine that,_ you_ didn't trust _me_." She shook her head as though in disbelief at the notion and picked at the stone cold appetizer in front of them.

"Is this what you dragged me out here to talk about? My mommy issues? Your second rate psychoanalytical bullshit?" Harvey asked, sounding every bit like a sullen teenager. "I planned on marathoning Game of Thrones tonight."

"Is it true?" she asked quietly. It was the set of her mouth, so tense, he wondered if she was gnashing on her teeth to slow her pace. It was her way of carefully constructing the impending conversation; so that it went at the pace that she wanted it too. Always the control freak.

"That I'm marathoning Game of Thrones tonight? Absolutely." He attempted to loosen his body up, but it was tight and rigid, as though it was subconsciously on alert for a tumultuous storm. "I would invite you over, but I figured you had your hands full with crazy British people as it is."

"This isn't a game Harvey!" She replied coldly. "Everything isn't a game. Is it true? Are you planning a coup?"

He should have been prepared. He knew it was going to come out. He knew deep down that this was one of the only reasons she dragged him down here to begin with. He knew all of that, and yet nothing prepared him for the look in her eyes when she asked him the question. Suddenly all the bravado he had was seeping out of him, and he grasped desperately at it like it was his lifeline. And it was. It always had been, for as long as he could remember. He reminded himself that this was all part of the plan. He reminded himself that this was what he wanted, and yet it felt like his blood had suddenly gone cold.

"Darby told you," he stated, after plastering the faux confident expression on his face.

"Darby. Why would Dar-?" she breathed out until there was a slight hitch at the end.

He watched the confusion transform into realization. That wasn't the hard part. The hard part, was watching how the shock became hurt. A crushing blow so hard, he could see her physically jerk back as though she had been hit. He knew that it would become anger soon enough, that she never visibly showed pain for too long. She never could afford to be that vulnerable and he always could relate to that. Seconds felt like long minutes as happy go lucky voices chattered on around them. The clattering of dishes as metal met porcelain, the aromas of foods from all over the dining room wafted by. The music, some annoying little pop princess with a nasally voice, whining in the background. He tried not to listen to the words that somehow cut through all the noise and hit him with keen exactitude.

_All along it was a fever. A cold sweat hot-headed believer_

The world around them was going on, and theirs was slowly falling apart.

"Me." She said after a bit. She gathered the hair that had been draped over her shoulder and tossed it behind her back. Her hands shook, with what he could only guess was anger. Pure rage and it was all going to be directed at him in three, two…

"How. Dare. You!" She hissed. Her voice had escalated and the blotchy redness of her face and chest told him that in all the years that they had gone at each other, this was probably the first time he'd driven the stake right into her heart. Honestly, he liked to delude himself into believing that she didn't possess one.

_Round and around and around and around we go. _

_Oh now tell me now tell me now tell me now you know_

She started laughing. Maniacal laughter that drew attention back to their table. The kind of laughing those asylum patients had down to a science. She laughed so much she grasped at her chest. He could have very well been witnessing Jessica Pearson finally snapping. The effervescent Goddess falling from her throne.

"You're a real piece of work, you know that?" she laughed again, and it was so dour that it chilled him. "That's hilarious though, because you know it's never going to happen."

"It did before, didn't it?" If only there was a way to retract words. This wasn't what he had planned. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Damn Darby and his ability to turn his entire plan pear shaped.

"After everything I've done for you, you'd…" she waved her hands as if she couldn't quite find the words to describe the gauntlet that he had just laid down.

A hot anger flared up in him at the mere reminder of just how much she had down for him. He couldn't keep himself from being annoyed at the way she callously threw it in his face, as though it was his job to be forever indebted to her for the opportunities she gave him.

"We're as good as even, and you know that," he growled. "This Jessica Pearson," he flicked his hands in her general direction and leaned forward. "I can't work with this Jessica Pearson anymore.

"What happen to the ambitious, fearless Jessica Pearson that I knew in the beginning?" he huffed, running a hand through his well coifed hair. "All I've been seeing is this JP who doesn't mind being number two. The Jessica Pearson I know, the one that I chose to work with, is an Alpha, not a Beta. She doesn't take shit from anyone. She takes no fucking prisoners. She never would have lay down and surrendered to all this bureaucratic shit!" He waved his hand in the air, and ignored the looks he was getting from the wait staff nearby.

"I've watched Daniel Hardman nearly cut you off at the knees, and you damn near let him! You practically whored yourself out to Zane all the while he was metaphorically beating you to a damn pulp. Now this shit with Darby. You've upped and married the first firm that sniffed around your ass, all because you're fucking _scared_. You're afraid, and now you want to play it safe. You're willing to be a Beta even though you were born an Alpha. You're willing to settle for number two. Again.

"You asked me if I trusted you, and honestly, no, I don't. Not this version of you. Not this woman who's making pathetic attempts at asserting an authority that she no longer has! So yeah, maybe I have been planning a coup. Maybe, I respect you enough to put you out of your misery!" His heart pounded rapidly in his chest as he watched her go from livid to irate. How did he get so off course?

_It's not much of a life you're living_

_It's not just something you take – it's given_

"Fuck you!" She growled at him, her face flushed and chest heaving. Her fists were tightly balled and resting on the table. He briefly wondered if she'd sock him the face right there in the middle of the restaurant. They had sparred a few times before. She had a hell of a right hook. She shot daggers at him, and he'd be lying to himself if he didn't acknowledge that he felt every single one kimbo-slicing right through him.

"It isn't just me, Harvey. You don't trust anyone. It must be sad, living a life where you don't trust a fucking soul, but I can't be sad for you any longer," she said coldly. "I've given you everything, even when you've constantly showed me what a colossal screw up you are. I gave you a job, even though your resume was lackluster at best. You screwed around the entire time. I guided you up the ranks from the goddamn mailroom and you practically fought me the entire way, because you sure as hell didn't make it easy. You never make it easy.

"I told you, you would make a hell of a lawyer, when that confidence of yours was just bravado and not the real deal," she chuckled darkly, as she jabbed a finger in his direction. "I helped you study for your LSATs and you goofed off. I wrote you a letter of recommendation and you practically bombed your Harvard interview. I paid your _entire _way through Harvard, and you clowned off the entire time you were there. Not once, though, not once did I ever give up on you! Not once did I ever turn my back on you!" her chest heaved as she struggled to keep her voice level.

"You know what I got for the trouble? I got a guy who didn't tell me the real reason why he left the D.A's office. I got a guy who hired some drug dealing; weed smoking, bleeding heart idiot savant who never even went to fucking Harvard let alone law school! I had to find that out by some scum best friend of his! Not_ my_ friend, not my employee, but some complete stranger who held our entire firm in his sleazy hands. I was blindsided!"

"Jessica," he started, as soon as he could utter her name past the lump in his throat.

"I'm not finished!" she snapped, no longer concerned about how loud she was or whether or not she was causing a scene. "I got a jackass who threatened me if I even thought about making him fire the goddamn liability that he brought into my firm. I got his protégé threatening to do the same damn thing. I got the guy that was accused of burying evidence and nearly cost me my firm. Again.

"You're the one who doesn't play well with others. You're the one who has spent half of the time I've known you undermining me and doing things behind my back. You're the one who leaves me in the dark, and I keep fucking letting you. For whatever reason, I keep letting you. And yet, you're the one who doesn't trust me? After all of things you've done over the years, hell, after all the things you've done that have personally offended me to the core in the past few months, you have the audacity to imply that I'm somehow untrustworthy? That I somehow don't have your best interest at heart, when I'm the _only_ one who ever has!" she glanced around the room before glaring at him. She was all flushed with anger, her body seemed to thrum with a ravenous energy and the vulturine gleam was enough to give him shivers. There was such confidence and malevolence emanating from her that he almost felt intimidated.

_Not really sure how to feel about it._

_Something in the way you move_

"Jess," he started. There was something in him that wanted to reach out and grab her hand and he didn't know why. His finger crawled across the table of their own volition but he jerked his hand back as if zapped by the invisible barrier that she had up.

"You don't get to 'Jess' me Harvey," she said, her lips curled. "Maybe that bastard, Daniel was right. Apparently he was," she said, her voice far away as though she were in another place.

He shuddered in response to the words, but she hardly seemed to notice. Dread crept up in him as she continued.

"After all of that shit you pulled I was still willing to give you partner, because even though you weren't ready for it, part of me felt like you deserved it. You still just couldn't trust me enough to get you there. You still had to do things your way. And now, now, even after I asked you to cooperate, even after I demanded that you humble yourself, you can't respect me enough to oblige. Your response is to sever one of the closest ties you've probably ever had," she scoffed in disbelief. Her fingers absentmindedly twisting the bracelet he gave her back when she made managing partner. "He told me that you'd be coming after me, and I didn't believe him. I refused to. But you believed him didn't you?"

"What was I supposed to think?" he whispered. It was weak even to his own ears, but his pride had a way of getting the best of him, even when he knew it shouldn't.

She smiled a bitter smile. "Tomorrow. Tomorrow, first thing, stop into my office," she said without emotion. She drained the rest of her glass of wine, and pushed the plate of cold food towards him.

There was something in her emotionless tone of voice. The way she had went from anger and hurt to indifference. It wasn't just that she had composed herself. It was a different sort of feel altogether, from the refined way in which she hid behind elegance and confidence. She was shut down in a different kind of way than he'd ever seen from her. It was as though he could see the wall rising right before him and he could no longer read her the way that he used too. She had cut him off completely. No window into her heart and soul. No nothing. She gave him absolutely nothing. This is what it must have felt like to be shut off from Jessica Pearson completely. The dread that had been creeping through him, had settled around his heart and squeezed with a vice-grip. His palms began to sweat, and his breathing was labored, as realization settled over him like a weight. This must be what happens when Jessica Pearson finally reaches her breaking point, and she no longer has it in her to be concerned anymore.

"Why?" he croaked, not even bothering to be embarrassed over whatever he was feeling being on display. He was a glutton for punishment, asking for confirmation to something he already knew. He already could feel.

_I want you to stay._

"I'll wave the non-compete, Harvey," she said without any feeling whatsoever. He couldn't read her anymore. He really couldn't read her anymore. "I want you to go. If that's what you want to do, at this point, I just want you to go."

He felt like he had been slapped in the face. His mouth was slightly ajar, because he honestly couldn't believe that the words had actually come out of her mouth. Somehow the idea that she'd be the one to sever the ties had never really crossed his mind. He screwed up, and she always forgave him, and that was how it was supposed to work. He'd do things that she didn't understand and she somehow managed to overlook it in the end. How did everything fall apart?

_Not really sure how to feel about it._

"You look surprised," she said, with no humor in her voice. No nothing really. It was just empty. Her voice was empty; her eyes were vacant as well. "I surprised you."

She did surprise him. So much so that he hadn't found his voice, and for the first time in quite some time, he didn't have any words to properly express what was going on his mind. Suddenly the air around him was thick and suffocation. The tension that was between them all night was gone, and all there was, was… emptiness. The man at the table next to him gave him a sympathetic look. Sympathy. Somehow he was on the receiving end of sympathy from a complete fucking stranger.

"A house divided can't stand," she said quietly. Her tone had that superior lilt that he used to love, but somehow, somehow when directed at him in this way all it did was make him feel estranged from her. "It's a war out there, but you seem eager to get into it. You can start your own firm. You can go to O'Donnell & Avery, you can go to Zane, you can go to bloody hell," she said through a smile that didn't hold an ounce of kindness.

This wasn't happening. There, there would have been the perfect opportunity for him to tease her about using British colloquialisms. Or maybe he could have made a movie reference, or cracked a senseless joke that only she would have really understood. He could have attacked her for that stupid quote. Was that a Bible verse or a quote? From a president maybe? She would tease him about his ignorance, and she'd refuse to tell him the answer. She'd make him work for it. She would…She'd…

"I don't think I care anymore, Harvey. I no longer give a shit."

_Makes me feel like I can't live without you._

It was the final blow that made something in him break.

She no longer cared.

He scolded himself, because it never crossed his mind that there would ever be a time when she wouldn't. She rose from her seat gracefully, as only someone as imperial as her would. She smoothed out the wrinkles in her skirt, and straightened out the blouse she was wearing. She took a step away from the table, but paused beside him still seated in the booth.

"You told me I wasn't alone Harvey," she started, her voice low with just the barest hint of something that made his heart wrench. "But I am," she continued, and whatever he thought he heard was no longer there. Nothing was there. "And you know what? That's okay. I'll be fine."

She reached out to grab his shoulder, but as if she was suddenly reminded of something that made her disgusted she snatched it away. "I know you don't owe me anything, but if you could take care of the bill, that would be great."

She strolled away with her head held high, and her steps assured, exuding all the confidence and class that made up Jessica Pearson. He hung his head down, too distraught to watch her go. The scent that was predominately her, lingered in the air. Vanilla and Jasmine. What once used to make him smile was somehow making him feel nauseous. He avoided the stares of the table next to him, and their waitress, as he swished the remaining liquid around in the glass.

_Round and around and around and around we go_

Darby was supposed to be the one that told her the unbelievable. She was the one who was supposed to never believe it. Jessica was never supposed to believe that he would betray her…because he wouldn't, no matter how pissed off he was. But he spent the last hour and a half watching one of the most convoluted relationships he ever had, blow up, all because he was still trying to get rid of Darby and protect Jessica and the firm. Even if it was just from herself.

There he sat, all alone in a place that used to mean so much to him, ignoring the curious glances of his fellow patrons after the spectacle he and Jessica had made. The entire conversation on repeat in his head set to the bittersweet backdrop of some faux edgy song that would typically make his hair stand on end. He stared at glass he was dangling between his fingers, and ran his other hand through his hair in irritation.

"Check sir?" The blonde waitress approached the table cautiously and hesitantly placed the folded piece of paper on the table before scurrying away.

How could he save someone who no longer cared about him anymore? How could he protect someone who no longer wanted him to stay?

~o~


End file.
